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User blog:Saint Altime/Precursor to the Kingdom of Cinder
Idle talk from those in the marketplace of Ardougne, capital of the Glorious Empire, was rarely of any important; merchants spoke of their wares, beggars of their desire for those wares, and guards of intense boredom. Today, however, marked a special occasion; the first anniversary of the crowning of Emperor Wrath to the new Empire of Kandarin. Fitting, then that chatter occilated between the anniversary and the news from the war front; Falador had finally fallen after a prolonged siege that strangled the city of its resources for a year. The citizens of Ardougne cheered perhaps half out of celebration and half of fear; the fall of the Vekons brought with it a swift wave of silencing of dissenters. Indeed, within a month a gnawing fear gripped the city and its twin Yanille that those critical of the now-emperor's conquest were taken in the depths of the night and never heard nor found thereafter. For most though, life continued as usual, albeit it with a more militarized air to the cities. Yanille had become a mass-training camp for the soldiers needed to fuel the Ashen Emperor's mighty armies, and Ardougne a center for commerece, wealth, and arms manufacturing. The sheer powerr held in just two cities seemed to foretell the fall of Misthalin as the war raged. Misthalin of course, being the only remaining world power with any fighting chance. Although independent nations such as Karamja and various desert cities offered resistance, they did not offer much. At the moment Falador was found to have fallen, a wave of skilled pyromancers worked day and night to burn the lush bounties of Karamja and reduce the verdant island to a lifeless ash pit. All this, it seemed, left a taste of resignation in the mouths of people across Gielinor. Though perhaps the elves of Lleyta could avoid his ire, the human kingdoms seemed destined to crumble under the sheer might of the Emperor. It was for this reason that the Emperor could be found on the sole throne in Sunfire hall. Guards in crimson red adorned the room and various advisors filled out the crowd with their presence. Banners all along the hall had been replaced with that of the new empire, and the large windows had been recrafted with a mosiac featuring the Emperor with the sun in one hand and his magnificent flaming sword in the other, pointed towards the sky. At the feet of the real Emperor stood a dignitary of Saradomin, a member of his church and apparent bishop. Behind him still, the current head of the black knights. The bishop lie prostate, groveling at the red boots of the Emperor. The ruler in question carried an annoyed countenance. Burning flames danced over his body but did not seem to bother him, as he expelled magical energy with no alarm to be found. His eyes were a cold brown and his attire an ornate set of armor that seemed to vent the aforementioned flames. He looked down upon the bishop with contempt but allowed him to speak. "The church of Saradomin begs you to allow us to remain a sovereign entity under the umbrella of your empire. We are prepared to follow your customs to their utmost should you allow us the basic rite to practice our faith. Should you require anything of us that does not violate our code you will have it, your excellency." he stammered, privately cursing himself for his fear. The Emperor cracked a grin, rising to his feet from the throne and grabbing the bishop by his neck, turning him about so as to take hold of him from the front and holding him aloft. He spoke to the bishop with a low, angry voice. All attention turned to the throne room. "That will not be necessary. With news of the fall of Falador my word has been done. My orders to the esteemed general were that should Falador offer its surrender, the first target to die would be the mouthpiece of your church, followed by the king, the commander of the white knights, all officers commanding special temple knight divisions, and then any remaining heathens such as yourself. Do you see, little runt? There is no more church. There is no more Saradomin. There is only Wrath, and you have incurred mine with your vile religion." He held the terrified priest close to his face, and tossed him on the floor as if he weigh no more than a feather. Within seconds an ensemble of guardsmen rushed to drag him towards the dungeon, having sensed their master's intentions. The leader of the black knights stepped forward, his helmet under his arms and his black and gold armor donned for this meeting. He kneeled immediately and looked up to the glorious leader. From his belt he offered a large sack of priceless gems. With a wave of his glorious hand, an attendant fetched for the Emperor. He examined the pouch as the man spoke up. "I'm glad you see things our way, your mightiness. I take it we can look forward to a long and propserous partnership under your glorious empire?" The being known as Wrath smirked, amused. He lowered his gaze to the man and spoke once more. "You misunderstand my intentions, stupid mutt. Just as Saradomin will be no more, so to will Zamorak. From this day onwards, there will be the church of Wrath, and no others. You will wake each morn and thank your glorious emperor that he has allowed you this day to live. You will worship the very ground I walk on and the air I breathe as sacred. You will mock those who supported false gods like Zamorak as they sway in the wind from their positions on the gallows. You will listen to each word I say with bated breath, because my word IS LAW. /I/ AM THE NEW WORLD ORDER! and those who seek to stop my progress are but a stiff wind to the march of my armies. Do you understand now?" The knight looked up with abhorrence. He fell backwards onto his back and quickly scrambled to his feet. Had he his sword he surely would have drawn it, but as it was he was surrounded by guardsmen, now pointing their halberds at him, His expression turned to loss, though he quickly snapped from it and berated the glorious leader; "You... Cur! We aided your siege on Falador! You promised us seats amongst your army!" Wrath laughed. He stood from his seat again, crossing his arms and contemptuously staring down the once-proud leader of Zamorak's chosen knights. He spoke precisely thus; "I lied. My words are not subject to interpretation by filth such as yourself. Take him to the dungeon and have him hanged with his comrade of the Saradominist faith." Though he struggled mightily, the knight could not escape the grasp of the guardsmen, who forcibly led him down to the dungeons below the castle. Emperor Wrath, however, stepped away from his throne and to his private quarters. He checked his armor for discoloration, his sword for detioration, and his reflection for emaciation. Satisfied that he was not becoming weaker through the continued usage of his magical power, he began to polish his armor until a portal opened nearby. Naturally, the castle was warded and teleblocked, so the emergence of a portal in his private chambers was a cause of concern. He grabbed his sword and immediately readied himself for attack, but instead a single man walked out, goggles covering his eyes and magic robes covering the rest of him. He examined Wrath carefully, and then looked about the room. The Emperor wasted no time and questioned the man. "Who the hell are you and how the hell did you get in here?" "My, you've gotten crazier since the last time I saw you. You were a bit of a sad sack last time we met. Decide to take up dictatorship to fill the void?" The stranger questioned, seemingly paying no mind to Wrath's aggressive tone. "I will NOT ask you again." He growled angrily. "It's not important. I'm just looking for something, which I believe I've found." He said, examining a blue crystal shard that glowed and hummed with an otherwordly power. He picked it off a nearby nightstand and held it to a nearby candle, looking over its beauty. He then turned back to the Emperor, holding it up as if to show that was his reasoning for being here. "Tell you what, let's just say in another time and place, you and I are friends, so let me give you some advice." he cheerily stated while he packed the crystal into a pocket of his. As he began his next sentence, however, his tone grew dark and his countenace grew dim. "Get off this path Edward. You're walking down a road to become the emperor of dust and nothing else. I've seen it. Return." The Emperor had had enough, and from his hand leapt a fireball aimed at the robed figure's chest. Surprised, he jumped to the floor but lost his crystal in the process. Wrath then began to approach him as the man got back on his feet. "Err, perhaps another time. Here, I'll leave you with this little tidbit I wrote so as to help remind you that it's not too late." He then held out a stone tablet with writing etched into it, and vanished just before Wrath could get into striking distance. He reached down and picked up the tablet that read "Cinder and ash, ash and dust, acts both unspeakable and unjust. In fiery grasp the holy stone on burning waste his eternal throne." Category:Blog posts